


things we'll never see again

by piggy09



Series: Keyframes [6]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen, Takes place immediately after Sarah's phonecall to Rachel in the warehouse - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 19:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3301097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah, in the aftermath of killing her sister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	things we'll never see again

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever get frustrated that we don't see Sarah process becoming a murderer at all? Do you ever get annoyed? I do. I get a lil peeved.

She has to _go_ , she knows, because Rachel’s offer won’t last forever and – Kira shouldn’t ever have to see this, her mother a bloodied crumpled heap on the ground, the person who would have done anything for her staring at the ceiling with empty eyes. Kira shouldn’t ever have to make the choice between her family and – well.

Her family.

Sarah manages to heave herself up to her feet, closes her eyes tightly so she doesn’t look at the graveyard she is leaving behind. She can smell it, though: rust lining the inside of her nose, the unmaking of a nosebleed. Or maybe its birth. She doesn’t know. She’s tired, and her body is a bruise from where Helena had lashed out. Her stomach is bruising with _one little baby andthenwesplitintwo_ and blood drips from her nose, _I – cannot – kill – you._

Wrapped around her trigger finger: _sister. family._

“I’m sorry,” she says to the dark, voice weak and wobbling. Her eyes are still closed; she opens them, looks at what she’s done. On the ground Helena’s eyes have slid closed – when Sarah wasn’t looking, maybe the second Sarah closed her own eyes (around her throat: _connection_ ) – as one final death-twitch. Sarah dreams that her eyelids flutter.

Then she just feels stupid for dreaming that. What was she supposed to do? Let Helena live? Let Helena pull her up from the floor and hug her, like this would be the last time? What would have stopped Helena from panicking at Kira holding Sarah’s hand? What would have prevented her from cracking Cosima’s neck, stabbing Alison in the stomach – they don’t have the protection of the womb, what could have _stopped_ her? Nothing but a bullet. Sarah didn’t have a choice, she _didn’t_.

She’s still so sorry. Helena looks very small, on the floor, even as she is spread-eagled. What sort of snow angel could you make down there, Helena, Sarah thinks with an edge of hysteria. What sort of angel are you. Not a good one, and Sarah is so tired and bruised from where her sister did not and could not kill her. She wants to curl around Helena and go to sleep, the two of them reunited. Maybe Sarah’s body heat would warm her back to life. Maybe Helena would be sorry too.

But Sarah’s legs have stopped shaking, and somewhere out there in some building made of sharp edges Rachel Duncan is waiting for Sarah to remake her life in neat black text and the scrawl of her signature. Waiting for her to give that life away – because even the bright light of a lab is better than this, this womb darkness. This dark, bloody space.

She stumbles past Amelia’s body and swallows down her tears, because this is too big for her. She’ll deal with it later, just like she’ll deal with Beth and Katja and Paul’s betrayal and Kira almost dying and Helena. She’ll deal with all of it later, when she’s not so tired.

She makes it past the bodies (the _bodies_ ) to the grating where just minutes ago Sarah had told Helena she was nothing, had begun the process of unmaking her.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, words quiet enough that she almost can’t hear them. But she has to, so she closes her eyes tight enough to not let the tears out, says: “ _sestra_.”

The word settles in the air, and it is not enough. Sarah pulls her jacket tightly around herself and limps towards the exit of the warehouse, towards something besides this: what she always leaves behind. Death and regret.

Behind her, she knows, the bodies are not moving. Sarah moves away from what she’s lost and drags herself, step by step, towards something brighter than this.

**Author's Note:**

> Things we lost to the flames  
> Things we'll never see again  
> All that we've amassed  
> Sits before us, shattered into ash  
> ~"Things We Lost In The Fire," Bastille
> 
> SARAH JUST HANG AROUND FOR LIKE TWO MINUTES -- SARAH -- _SARAH_
> 
> Please kudos + comment if you liked! Thanks for reading! :)


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